


Fuochi

by MyLadyDay



Category: One Piece
Genre: Canon verse, M/M, Pre-Slash, ace plays the violin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:21:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26429314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyLadyDay/pseuds/MyLadyDay
Summary: Marco is still chasing the melody.
Relationships: Fushichou Marco | Phoenix Marco/Portgas D. Ace
Comments: 5
Kudos: 76





	Fuochi

**Author's Note:**

  * For [siojo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/siojo/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Restricted Work] by [siojo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/siojo/pseuds/siojo). Log in to view. 



> Part of a (very old) challenge with Siojo <3

If he thinks about it without getting distracted, it’s obvious Marco hasn’t actually seen or really heard the violin in a while. He always hears a note here and there, carried on the wind or slipping between the voices on deck, just a whisper before it’s gone again. It’s becoming something of a challenge to catch the sound fast enough to follow it.

Ace knows better now, though. He knows the ship inside out and he keeps finding new corners to hide in, even though he doesn’t have to pretend he’s not one of them anymore.

Marco’s desperate to catch him when he’s playing, curious to hear more now that he knows for sure that Ace plays regularly. No one else seems to be catching on, and Marco is giddy at the thought of this secret only he knows, but he still wants more. Maybe a full song just once, if he manages to catch it on time.

Every melody is fleeting, carried on the wind and Marco is having a hard time remembering the last bout of obsession like this.

He knows it’s taking up too much of his focus, distracting him from more important business, but he’s always been too curious for his own good and unable to let things go. Ace knows this, and he knows Marco is losing his mind just a little already over it.

So far, he was able to figure out a system; Ace didn’t play in his own room, because that’s just too easy to figure out, but storage rooms are fair game. He even made a little nook in one of the crow’s nests and Marco’s sure he heard Ace play up there once when no one was around. But no one was around because of the borderline deadly wind and Marco still isn’t sure if he imagined the sound in the end.

The system works because Marco gets to slink around the ship like he’s not supposed to be there, making rounds between the places he knows for sure are on Ace’s rotation. No one’s figured him out yet. Or well, no one is saying anything, so he doesn’t bring it up either.

He’s passing the halls like he’s on important business, checking storage rooms and hidey holes, fully expecting Ace to just pop out of nowhere.

There was no music for a couple of days and he’s sure Ace would be coming out to play soon. Still, every spot from Marco’s list is empty when he checks and he’s ready to give up (just this once). Still, he finds himself on deck, fully prepared to fly up to the crow’s nest and check there too, even if he’s expecting nothing at this point.

The deck is pretty much completely deserted at this time of night, especially in the current climate that pretty much none of the crew found pleasant. Marco let himself get distracted by the calm the ship was wrapped in with a barrier of falling snow hiding them in a world of their own.

Carried in the breeze, somewhere between the snowflakes, is a somber melody, calm and low, and fitting of their surroundings. Delicate enough not to disturb the pristine snow and the sense of peace that's overwhelming him. He's pretty sure he's not imagining the flicker of fire in the crow's nest, drawing him in and beckoning him to fly up and see for himself, to hear up close.

Shockingly, he doesn't really want to anymore. He knows moving from the spot he's rooted to would disturb the peace and the calm, would halt the melody and burst the bubble only he and Ace's song were apparently existing in just for that moment.

Marco stayed there on deck, flakes of snow melting as soon as they touch the warmth of his face, wrapped in the warmth of the song making its way through the snowfall. The curiosity is only growing with every note and sweet sound reaching him, the curiosity for so many aspects of who Ace is, and yet the urge is still a subtle one in this moment, waiting for the calm to pass.


End file.
